Tell Me a Story: Merlin Collection
by Kitty O
Summary: Reposted from tumblr for my 500FollowerBash. All of the filled Merlin prompts are collected here for easy access. Includes: injured Merlin and Arthur bromance, background Arwen, Merlin in Star Trek universe, and Merlin in HP universe. Spoilers through the series. Complete.
1. Prompt 1

_**A/N: So, when I hit 500 followers on tumblr, I threw a #500FollowerBash and asked people for prompts to fill. They are all filled on tumblr (my URL is kittyorleans), but I thought I should put them in a place that's easier to find. So here they are again. These are all of the Merlin prompts. There is one Merlin prompt, one Merlin/Star Trek crossover prompt, and one Merlin/HP crossover prompt.**_

**Merlin Prompt #1: Merlin and Arthur (with background Arwen if you can hack it) general h/c fic - by reallybadacid**

"Hey, Arthur."

"I'm still listening."

"Could you be the one who acts like everything's going to be fine this time? I just don't have it in me right now."

"We're going to be fine, _Mer_lin. Don't be such a girl."

"Thank you, Arthur."

They'd had two horses, which were now gone. There were four dead men laying on the ground surrounding them, but to look on the bright side, at least they weren't anyone from Camelot. They'd barely managed to stagger from the scene before they both collapsed against a fallen log. Arthur's leg was probably broken. Merlin had taken a blow to the head and couldn't really see straight. He thought about using magic, and nearly vomited. Overall, it had been a rough day for the king of Camelot and his trusted manservant.

"If I tried to go to sleep," Merlin asked, "what would you do?"

"Hit you."

"Oh." Merlin's head fell back against the wood. Arthur reached over and hit him in the chest, and Merlin gave a little scream of indignation as he sat back up again. "Really?" he said. "Really? I'm injured."

"It's not like you've never been injured before, you know. You're being selfish."

"Are you trying to make me mad or make me laugh?" Merlin asked. Once, so many years ago, he would have held back, thought about what he was saying to the king. People might not believe it, but he knew what it meant to bite your tongue. But he and Arthur had moved past that. He'd be snarky, and Arthur would yell at him, and then they'd get over it – probably after somebody evil died. It was actually a sort of worrying pattern. His head hurt.

"Both," Arthur said. "Either. Doesn't matter. Stay awake."

"I do a lot of things for you, but…"

"Let's talk about something else. What are you thinking?"

"My head hurts."

"What else?"

"The first time I killed someone, I'd just met you, and I did it to save you because they were attacking – and I didn't even lose any sleep. I barely thought about it afterward. Does that make me a bad person?" Merlin's head had fallen back again, but he was awake, so Arthur didn't hit him again. "Was it that easy for you the first time you killed someone?"

"No," said Arthur, taken aback. "But that doesn't mean… Merlin, let's talk about something else."

"Remember the little Druid boy we saved?"

"Yes," Arthur said, relieved.

"I nearly didn't come."

Arthur froze. "I nearly left you there to get caught, because he had magic and I thought he'd be dangerous when he grew up. I was scared, so I nearly told myself it was for you and let him die. Sometimes I worry that he's going to come back and hurt someone, and it will be my fault."

"Merlin, you're upset right now. It's just the head injury talking." Maybe it made him a poor friend, but Arthur didn't want to hear Merlin tell him about his coldheartedness, not in this state. Arthur had his own conscience to live with, and Merlin was probably suffering from a concussion. This was a conversation for when both were well and, if possible, a little drunk.

"Sometimes I think if I lost you and Gwen, I wouldn't have any conscience left."

Gwen. Arthur sat up straighter, flinching at the pain in his leg. "I'm going to propose to Guinevere," he said to his manservant.

Merlin was instantly distracted. He even picked his head up – and then turned green. "Oh," he said, breathing hard. "Really? When did you…?"

"A few weeks ago. I wasn't sure when to tell you because I figured when you two were gossiping, you'd spoil the surprise. I asked Elyan – you know, since her father…"

"Got executed, yeah, I remember," said Merlin.

"Guinevere's an amazing girl," said Arthur. "She's beautiful, and sweet, and smart, and I'm lucky that she likes me. I know I want her to be my queen. And I'm ready for this."

"I don't disagree with a single thing you just said," said Merlin.

"I'm nervous as hell."

Merlin laughed out loud, but then groaned. Arthur immediately shifted and reached for him, and it occurred to Merlin all at once that Arthur was worried about him. Arthur was legitimately, deeply worried about him right now.

That was bad.

"I've heard that's normal," said Merlin. "But it'll pass, and it will be worth it. You love her."

"Yeah."

"Remember when you didn't think it would ever work out?"

"All those years ago."

"Yeah," said Merlin sadly, "All those years ago." Oh, no. The world was starting to spin, and the pain cranked itself up a notch. "Don't hit me," he demanded as he closed his eyes.

Arthur didn't, but his hand closed on Merlin's shoulder. "After we're married – you know, if she says yes, and I hope she does – then we'll have to find you a girl. How old are you now, twenty-seven?"

"I'm twenty-five," said Merlin. "You're twenty-seven."

"Guinevere has some nice friends. Maybe you should start thinking about meeting the girl for you," said Arthur. He was desperate, then, if that was the topic he was choosing.

"I think I might be going to meet her now," Merlin said, drifting.

"What does that mean? Merlin? Merlin, hey, open your eyes."

Arthur shook him and Merlin groaned at the pain that caused, closing his eyes tighter. He'd do anything Arthur wanted, of course, except obey him, because he didn't want to. And we wasn't sure he knew how, anyway.

"Merlin!" Arthur said, louder. "No, you need to stay awake. That's what Gaius would say. For the love of – I need you to wake up. You useless idiot, I hate you for this. Merlin? Merlin!" Merlin only groaned, but he was sleeping. His face was smooth. And Arthur was sitting here, helpless and with a broken leg, and he was terrified. "You can't sleep, Merlin, what if you die? What if you die and I'm here alone?"

No response. Arthur couldn't breathe.

Arthur felt for a pulse, and it was still there, but that didn't mean Merlin was going to make it. The horses had made it to Camelot by now, and surely the men were out tracking them. They'd be here soon, but it would be too late if Merlin –

"Merlin," said Arthur, shifting again – and this time he didn't even feel his legs. "I need you too, you know. You're my conscience too, Merlin. It's been too long for you to leave me here now, like this."

Merlin didn't respond.

But he didn't leave his master, either.

In ten minutes, the men would come, and Gaius would be with them. Merlin would wake up, eventually, and he would be okay. Arthur would have another chance to tell Merlin anything he wanted to say, and Merlin had a chance to ruin the surprise for Gwen – but he didn't. Merlin never did obey Arthur, but he'd never leave the king either.

Not in a thousand years.


	2. Prompt 2

**Merlin Prompt #2: I'd really like to see how Merlin and Spock would interact. - by Anonymous**

Merlin got old waiting for Arthur to come back. And then, he got young again.

More than a thousand years passed, and he had to resort to magic for things like IDs and birth certificates. He had only just gotten used to cars when they made spaceships. Yes, Merlin was falling behind.

And then aliens happened, and he caught up quickly. Since there were aliens who lived so long they almost seemed immortal, he stopped worrying about faking the documents. He wanted to get on a spaceship and go, but he had it on good authority that Arthur would come back the same way he left, and so Merlin waited with itchy feet.

When Arthur washed up on shore in the year 2250, Merlin had almost gotten tired of waiting (but he'd never, never tell Arthur that).

"Come on," he'd said to Arthur then. "Let's get you used to the world, then save it, then we can get on a starship."

And several years later, there they were, on the Starship Enterprise. Arthur had caught up quickly, and was already admitting to Merlin that he'd like to captain a ship one day. Command gold looked good on him. Merlin, however, had a hard time deciding – did he want to be security? An engineer (his degree was fifty-eight years old)? Communications? _Science?_ Wait, wasn't his nursing degree pretty recent?

Well, he looked better in blue.

"Doctor McCoy," he called as he scooped up the tray from the table and nearly stumbled on his way through the door. "The samples are ready. Oh, sorry, I forgot the knocking again."

Turns out, McCoy wasn't alone in there. First Officer Spock, who was looking more plastic than usual, stood inside. If he was human, he'd have been glaring.

"Great," said the graying physician, who was a bit peeved-looking himself, "give them to Christine." Merlin liked McCoy, because he was both a lot like Gaius and also_ nothing_ like Gaius.

"Sure," said Merlin with one last look at Spock, and ducked out. He delivered the samples, and then went back to his work table and started looking over his latest samples.

Several minutes later, a shadow moved over him.

"You shouldn't let him get your goat," Merlin said without looking up.

Mr. Spock stopped and lifted an eyebrow silently, and Merlin glanced up to give him a grin.

"My goat, Mr. Merlin?"

Of course Spock new his name. Merlin thought he might know everyone's name, which was impressive when you didn't have magic to lean on. "Yeah, you know, don't let him bother you. The doctor."

"I assure you that I do not become 'bothered', and I do not think…"

"I know, I'm sorry, I talk too much," Merlin said. "I always have, and that's a habit you'd think you could break in a thousand years. It's probably out of line, but I know the doctor likes you. I used to have a friend who was mean to me every chance he got – okay, he still is, but he would've done anything for me, just like…" Merlin let himself trail off. He knew that Mr. Spock new what he was talking about.

Mr. Spock, for his part, simply raised an eyebrow in what would have been irritation if he had been human.

"What I'm saying is, people like that, you have to remember that they're worth it," Merlin said.

Mr. Spock was definitely offended now, but Merlin figured he wouldn't get in trouble. When did he ever?

"As you were, Mr. Merlin," said Mr. Spock, and swept out of the med bay.

"I'll see you around!" Merlin called after him, and went back to his work.


	3. Prompt 3

**Merlin Prompt #3: HOGWARTS MERLIN AU. NOT THEM BEING SORTED BUT MERLIN BEING THERE FOR REASONS. - by Anonymous**

There was a professor named Merlin, but no one thought much of it. Merlin was a common name among wizards, especially as a name for people with parents that had high hopes for greatness for their children.

Professor Merlin, however, had been known to say that his mother's hope for him was that he would survive to adulthood.

He disappeared around the time Lord Voldemort came into power, and many people assumed he went to join the Death Eaters. When the Dark Lord was defeated, however, and the Death Eaters were accounted for, Merlin was not. Many people had forgotten him by then, though.

Harry Potter defeated Voldemort for good a full generation later, and the next year Professor Merlin was back at work.

One person, another professor, asked him where he'd been, and why he didn't look any older when by all rights he should be exiting his middle aged years. He said that he spent part of his time waiting by a lake and then realized that he could do more good from Avalon. Turns out, wizards don't believe in silly legends like Avalon. Merlin was told next time just admit he wouldn't tell, not make things up.

Professor Merlin just smiled and nodded.

Professor Merlin was an odd man, but then, weren't most brilliant men eccentric? And the professor was brilliant. He had to be, because when an overwhelmed student once asked him when he had mastered nonverbal spells, he had to blush and admit that he'd always been good at non-verbal spells. Still, he was very weird. He sometimes stopped to talk to the giant squid. The mermaids had a particular liking for him, and sometimes they'd pop out of the lake to screech at him. The professor only ever laughed. He would carry on full conversations with the portraits, and once a pudgy third-year boy caught him crying in front of a picture of a lovely dark-skinned woman.

People don't know very much about Professor Merlin. They don't know his last name. He never won any awards. He didn't even attend Hogwarts – and this they know because a lovely seventh-year asked him once, and he said he didn't. People kept asking him if he went to _this_ school instead, or _this_ school, and eventually he said he was privately tutored. A loud-mouthed first year asked if his parents were rich. The professor laughed out loud.

One time a second-year came into his class crying because he'd been called a mudblood. Professor Merlin kept him after class, and he walked out looking different. He was smiling and he had so much confidence that he was rarely picked on again. (When his younger sibling asked about it, he told the younger boy that there are much worse things than being different and special and_chosen_.)

People liked Professor Merlin. He was goofy. He had a tendency to perform magic during class, often without thinking about it, and it would always be something ridiculous. He once claimed that he invented the trick where you pull a rabbit out of a hat. He claimed it had saved him during hunting trips before.

The rumor was, he could defy one of the greatest laws of magic and create something out of nothing. He had no comment on this allegation.

No one had ever seen his boggart, but one fifth year with a horrible crush on him once sadly concluded that he must be gay, because his Patronus was a young, blond man.

When he heard the troubles of a vivacious fifth year, he asked her to his office to explain to her the dangers of letting your whole life revolve around one boy. "But how do you know what's best for me?" she asked him, sniffing.

"Experience," he told her. "And heartbreak."

He cringed at the sight of a dragon once. "Just a dumb beast," he said. That night, he was spotted on the grounds – apparently roaring at it. The dragon didn't seem to be reacting, and the professor was in a bad mood the rest of the week.

He hated potatoes, and the house elves liked him so much that they made special meals for him without a whisper of discontent.

The professor was an amazing storyteller, but his stories were fantastic, and there was no way they could be true. The stories sometimes included the legendary Merlin, but that character was never really the hero. King Arthur or his knights usually were. No one knew why he was so obsessed with them.

Once, he asked a bully second-year to see him after class. The professor told the boy about power. About loneliness. About losing your power. And about how having that power isn't what makes you important. Thirty years later, that man would say in a speech how that chat was one of the first examples of real compassion he ever saw, and how a sad professor had turned his life around.

He was quietly but unmistakably defiant. Once, it was said, the headmaster came in and gave him an order. The professor considered it, and then said no. While the students held their breaths, he and the headmaster stepped outside. Ten minutes later, the professor came back. He never followed the order, and it was never mentioned again.

A seventh-year once asked him if he was immortal, because he always looked so young but he'd been here for years – he'd even taught her parents. Professor Merlin had laughed, winked, and held a finger to his lips with a small smile.


End file.
